


you are not alone

by lorene



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 13:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9387515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorene/pseuds/lorene
Summary: Being a manic depressive, Adam thinks, is confusing. Logically, you know better but emotionally you don't care. That’s confusing. Most of the time he's not sure how he feels about a lot of things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay couple of things: 
> 
> \- PLEASE remember this is a work of fiction. Bipolar is a serious disorder and it affects everyone differently. When writing about mental illnesses, I do try to do as much research as I can to make it as realistic as possible. Bipolar, in particular is so very broad and it really is hard to get every aspect of it spot on. This isn't meant to offend anyone, this is merely just a fic! And although this is pretty angsty, I would say it's light enough for it not to be depressing so idk don't take it too seriously. 
> 
> \- There are two main episodes that are apart of Bipolar and that's Mania and Depression so I tried to give a little bit of what Adam's manic episodes look like and what his mindset it for that and same with the depressive episodes. 
> 
> \- okay, I think that's all I wanted to say, I'm a little nervous about posting this so please just remember this is all fiction!

Adam always felt it in him.

The numbness. The twinge deep inside the pit of his stomach that thrived on impulse. Though he was constantly on the verge of losing himself in the highs and lows of his own mind, he was tired of trying to fight it.

He had to. Fight off the ongoing battle within himself of not wanting to completely let his reality slip through his fingers and at the same time chasing every thread of mania he could reach. It kept him alive. It was like something being wrong with him was the only thing that really kept him going. It made him not feel so numb to everything around him. The highs were worth it all and they were Adam's favourite part.

Not one person knew that he loved the unpredictability of it. No one knew he craved the untouchable feeling that made him feel like he could do anything in the world and no one could stop him. And absolutely no one knew that he purposely stopped taking the small mint green pills that controlled this disease.

Taylor would never know. Taylor didn't want to hear it. Taylor thought he wanted to get better. Adam had every intent to keep it that way.

\---  
Being a manic depressive wasn't a big deal, Adam thinks. He’s been handling it for most of his life, he thinks.

He could still have a career, hold his marriage down, live a normal fucking life. Though he didn't truly think he was- he could still not be totally crazy.

Some days he woke up feeling normal until he didn't and that's when the sadistic part of him that enjoyed feeling out of control came out and he did nothing to stop it.

He was a rapid cycler which meant his mood swings varied from hour to hour, day to day. He could hide the smaller shifts he had through the day, it was the episodes that he couldn't contain. But he didn't want to. That's the problem. He loved the chasing the euphoric highs and loved hating the miserable lows. It was addicting.

If he told that to Taylor, it would be an even bigger problem.

\---  
Maxing out all of their credit cards within in two hours and going behind his back to steal cash from his wallet to keep spending in a hypomanic episode only had to happen once for Taylor to completely cut him off from any financial freedom he had before. A week later, close to thirty five packages showed up at their front door. He had bought 26,000 dollars worth of yellow polypropylene rope. All he remembers is being entranced by the bright yellow strands and wanting to pull the rope from the reel for hours and hours to no end.

“We needed it!”

Taylor had been thoroughly upset. At the time, he didn't really care. Taylor was the one that had to go through the process of sending all the packages back and calling their credit card company after all.

All while Adam sat there next to him at the dining table with a smile that he couldn't control because it's not like he had a filter when he was in an episode like that.

  
\---  
Sometimes he could feel an episode coming on. Other times, it hit him smack dab in the face and knocked him on his ass so hard that it left him blindsided for hours after. The episodes lasted for days at a time.

“I'm going to scrub every inch of this house, just you watch. When I'm done and through, this kitchen is going to be so spotless and sparkling clean that you'll be able to lick the floors. If you're lucky, I’ll even fuck you over the counters and make you lick the come off the floors and-” Adam forgets exactly what he's saying but that doesn't stop him from clenching his jaw tighter as he stares at the glaringly shiny counters.

Taylor watches him scrub at a spot on the stove he already cleaned a second ago. The skin on his fingertips was turning red and wrinkly from the harsh friction of the backside of the sponge. Adam was aware of what he was doing in this kind of episode and sometimes he just liked to watch for Taylor's reaction to how hysterical he could get.

He felt like there was something loose inside of him and he loved the amped up electric jolt it sent through his entire body. It made him feel alive. _On top of the world_.

“It's three in the morning, Adam. What the fuck?” Taylor asks. He’s half asleep, there is a red pillow crease on his cheek and he looks confused.

Adam laughs. It echoes through the house and it's ecstatic and flowing in his veins. He feels so energized and it's refreshing. He feels like he can jump ten feet in the air and run around the entire city in one minute. In fact- he needs to be outside right now.

The arm around his waist is strong enough to hold him back and he looks down at the grip Taylor had on him. “Please tell me you're not having a goddamn fucking episode right now.”

“I'm not manic, you are. I'm not the one that needs to be on medication. None of this is my fault, it's yours.”

“Adam,” Taylor says. He sounds angry but that not Adam’s problem. Nothing is Adam's problem. “I have to be at work in three hours. Are you serious right now?”

He feels jittery. He can't stop moving around. He needs to be touching something right now, needs to be having some sort of stimulation. Just standing around wasn't doing anything and it wasn't productive. They needed to be productive.

“You can't stop me from anything, I'm stronger and better than you.” he says as a matter of fact. He wants to run away, because Taylor can't hold him back from anything- not when he is absolutely _invincible_.

He doesn't feel bad at all when he stretches down to bite Taylor's arm. He thinks if he bit hard enough then Taylor would know not to hold him back like this. Adam could do a lot more than bite him.

Taylor gasped out of surprise. Adam thinks it probably hurt him. “What the _\- don't fucking bite me_. God, what is wrong with you?”

“I just want to go for a drive.” It's a perfectly reasonable thing to want. He needs to be outside already and all he wants is to just drive around for a while. Taylor doesn't let go, his grip just gets tighter and he tries to drag Adam by the waist but Adam’s isn't going anywhere with him.

“Stop Adam. _Stop_. You’re manic right now.” Taylor sounds worried. Worried and frantic, like he thinks Adam’s going to do something irrational.

He could. He might. He has before. But he doesn't feel the need to right now.

“I'm better than you, I’m better than you-” Adam turns it into a chant because he wants Taylor to believe it. He wants the whole world to believe it. He thinks for a very split second that the world does believe it. “Everyone wants to hear my opinion. They always know I'm right.”

Adam scratches at Taylor’s arm, his thigh, any part of bare skin that he can reach. It feels so freeing to hurt Taylor, so liberating and he feels so good right now. _Nothing can stop him_. No one can stop him from running outside because he needs to feel the earth's energy pulsing beneath his feet and laugh at the winds attempt to hold him back.

He stomps on Taylor’s foot, which works because he breaks out of his grasp. Adam makes sure to shove him back so that he can get a head start on the chase. He smiles so hard it hurts his mouth when he escapes from the house. It's cold but it feels great against his skin. He might be shivering because he's just in boxers and a thin shirt but it's great.

 _Everything is so great_.

He jumps up and down a few times, just because he can and spins around to face where Taylor's emerging from the house. Adam doesn't know why he looks so mad about, Taylor should be happy like him.

“Isn't this the fucking best!” Adam wants to shout it to the world because it really is. There's nothing like it.

He's being dragged somewhere again. Taylor's nails are digging into his skin angrily but it feels too good for Adam to ask him to stop. Taylor is saying something to him and all he hears is a muffled version of it.

He's supposed to go driving around the city, he thinks there's something he's supposed to get but suddenly he's back in the house and Taylor's locking the front door behind them.

“Don't try and pull that shit again.” Taylor huffs out a breath. His bare feet are red from the biting cold and there are goosebumps up and down his arms. Adam wants to get his hands all over him. “Fucking bullshit, I have to get up in three hours and you're out here trying to run around outside.”

Adam doesn't say anything but his mind is racing and he is still thrumming with energy. He doesn't feel bad- he can't because he feels too good. Nothing was his problem. Taylor yanks him along by the wrist and back into the bedroom they go.

“Just stay in here. Don't try to go anywhere.” he tells him.

Taylor throws the covers back over himself and faces the other direction. He leaves Adam standing there in front of the bed. Taylor's definitely mad. Adam knows that but he can't bring himself to stop.

Now Adam's not sure what he's looking for, but he feels like there's something he's supposed to find in their closet. He's throwing things around, making a lot of noise, he's keeping Taylor up.

“Where did you put my blue sweatshirt at? Are you trying to hide it from me?” he asks. He needs to be wearing his blue sweatshirt right now. He's cold and needs his blue sweatshirt. There's no way Taylor is asleep, Adam thinks. So he gets up and shakes him. “It's not in the wash, is it?”

Taylor groans and half sits up on his elbow. There are hints of dark circles under his eyes. He must be tired. The weird thing is that Adam didn't need to sleep during a manic episode. He didn't understand the need for sleep, for rest- _to stop_. He woke up at three am sharp and started his day from there. He probably won’t sleep a lot this week. That was okay with him.

He sees Taylor watching him from the corner of his eye. He’s back at the closet, tearing clothes off of hangers and sifting through crap. “I’m trying so hard to be patient with you right now.” Taylor mutters lowly.

It makes Adam laugh again, it makes him throw his head back and grin up at him from his spot on the floor. “You’re acting like you’ve never done this before.” Meaning Taylor’s acting like he’s never had to watch him when he’s like this. They’ve gone through worse when this happened. He tells Taylor that.

Taylor keeps watching him and Adam can't tell what he's thinking but he thinks he might be trying to figure out where the blue sweatshirt is. If it wasn't for Adam, then who knows how long the sweatshirt would have been missing for.

See, Adam’s doing a lot of good here. He loves the way he is.

\---  
Taylor always told him there was something different about him. It wasn't because Adam was the life of the party, it wasn't because Adam charmed him way into his heart and it wasn't because Adam had a nice steady bank account.

He never found out what exactly it was that Taylor saw in him so much that he's willing to put up with Adam like this. He thinks if he had to choose between Taylor and the disorder, he would choose Taylor.

As much as he loved the euphoric instability, the out of control part of his mind that couldn't keep a still thought, he loved Taylor more. He thinks that says a lot.

The moment he met him, he knew Taylor was the one. Taylor's stood by him through some of his darkest, embarrassing moments and he thinks if he could give Taylor anything- it would be for him to be free.

\---  
Today, Adam woke up feeling hungover. His manic episode is over a week later. Now he's drained, emotionally and mentally. He didn't want to be alive. His head hurt.

Taylor was laying on his back next to him, staring at the mark he left on his forearm. Adam thinks he was still upset for biting him. He remembers drawing a bit of blood. He throws his hands up helplessly and says, “I'm sorry for doing that.” It’s the seventh time he’s apologized for it.

“I told you it's okay.” Taylor sighs and he looks at him. “I left your meds right there.” and he points to the nightstand on his right. The little green pill sits there unrelenting and Adam tries not to make it obvious when he glares at it. Taylor's been keeping an eye on him all last week making sure he's still swallowing the pills down.

“Thanks. I'm sorry.” Adam repeated. “You know I didn't mean to hurt you.” He means it because now he's off his high and feels almost back to his normal self. Actually, he's going to feel like absolute shit later today.

Adam stares at their wedding photo on the nightstand before going back to staring at his medication. He's supposed to take one 150 mg of Risperdal every morning. It's supposed to repress his mood swings and irritability, control the highs and lows to a moderate level.

Newlywed life probably wasn't supposed to be like this.

Taylor probably wasn't supposed to be dealing with his manic depressive husband biting him on the arm at three in the morning during a manic rage. Adam doesn't think it was supposed to be like this.

“I'm so tired.” Taylor says. They just woke up but Adam thinks he means from this past week. He can keep apologizing but he doesn't think Taylor wants to keep hearing it.

He does feel bad, he does feel guilty and right now he feels like crying. This is one of those moments where he can suppress the overwhelming urge to start sobbing uncontrollably because he doesn't want Taylor to see it. Not after last week. He doesn't want to remind Taylor that his mood swings are no fucking joke.

 _When Taylor leaves_ , he thinks he’ll cry.

“I'm not going in today.” is how Adam replies.

Taylor raises an eyebrow and turns his cheek to the pillow. He knows what's coming on. Adam likes that he doesn't have to explain how his episodes work every time they come along, Taylor just knows what to expect.

“Please call me if you need me, alright. I really don't like leaving you here when your…”

Adam nods. He doesn't like Taylor to be around when he's like this. It's embarrassing. He becomes weak. Feeling like the most worthless waste of space is pretty much all that occupies his mind.

“I guess I should get up now.”

Adam glances at the clock. _6:53_. Taylor sighs for the second time this morning and rolls over to give him a morning kiss. “Don't forget to take your medication, babe.” he says and throws the covers off of him.

“Oh, yeah. _Forgot_.” Adam leans forward to press another kiss to Taylor's shoulder before he gets out of bed and watches him stumble to the bathroom. He stares at the pill for another second and swallows the wave of sadness that cuts in him deep before picking the pill up and dropping it behind their headboard.

It was the same routine for them every morning. They woke up at 6:30 on weekdays, both having to get to work at 8. Adam would make coffee while Taylor took a shower and he would straighten his tie out before he left for work. Then Adam would hop in the shower and start his day.

Make coffee. Straighten tie. Take a shower.

Adam makes those three tasks his goals for today. He could do that while he could still get out of bed, it's not too difficult. That first touch of his feet on the carpet is tough. It's tough and he feels like crying still. _Soon_ , he thinks.

It takes him exactly eleven minutes to stand up upright like a normal human being. He should feel good about that because usually it takes him longer but he really just can't feel good about anything right now. Taylor steps out of the bathroom in a fog of warm steam and Adam suddenly wants to take that step back to hide in bed.

“You okay?” Taylor asks him. “Do you need something?”

It takes an incredible amount of energy for Adam to lift his hand to point to the kitchen. “Coffee.”

Taylor acknowledges it and doesn't say anything about the way his shoulders slouch forward because he doesn't have the energy to carry himself correctly.

Walking to the kitchen feels like he's walking through molasses. Each lift of his feet feels like it takes an eternity to register and in this moment, he thinks being a manic depressive is the worst thing to happen to someone. Blinking even feels like a lot of work. So he ends up staring at the coffee maker for exactly two minutes and his eyeballs sting painfully when he finally is able to close them.

The hand on his lower back scares him but he doesn't jump. He doesn't think any unnecessary movement is something his body can do. “Why don't you just go back to bed, and I’ll bring you some when it's done.” Taylor says.

It takes a few seconds to recognize the words coming out of Taylor’s mouth and he knows he should just go back to bed but he finds himself shaking his head. It's a mechanical move, but not unnecessary. Adam sucks in a shaking breath and says, “No, I need to do this.”

“Adam, you don't need to push yourself. Come on, let me take you back to bed.” Taylor urges. Adam doesn't have the strength to refuse again and together, they walk back to the bedroom at a slow pace that Adam can keep up with.

“Did you take your medication already?”

He nods and Taylor tucks the blankets in around him. Adam stares at the ceiling because he doesn't want to watch how Taylor has to plug his dying phone into the charger and sit down on the edge of the bed to pet his hair. “Please take it easy today. I’ll try to get off early, but call me if you need anything. I gotta go now, okay?”

Adam doesn't say anything so Taylor pets his cheek and kisses him on the mouth. It's a kiss that Adam’s unresponsive to. It’s not like he wants to be, he just is. Taylor tells him that he loves him and gets up to grab his car keys.

When Taylor leaves, he cries. It’s a pathetic sob session while laying in bed, by the time he's done the pillow is damp. He flips it over to the dry side. When he lays his head back down he realizes that he didn't even straighten Taylor’s tie before he left.

He chokes back another sob because he couldn't even do that. He was useless. Taylor married someone who was useless and couldn't even come up with enough energy to do something as simple as straighten his tie. He cries for another few minutes and then he’s just exhausted so he goes back to sleep.

It’s five pm when he wakes back up. He slept for 12 hours. That’s the life you lead when you're depressed. He tries to sit up and drink some water and vaguely thinks about how Taylor will be home any minute now. His husband is going to come home to him still in bed because he can't do anything else.

As the week will wear on, Adam’s depressive episode will only get worse. He can feel it. It’s a draining process but this is just how he is. He hates how he is.

\---  
“I think we should think about buying a house.”

Taylor finishes off his glass of red wine before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. He has a bit of a smirk on his lips and Adam knows it's because of him. “Mmm, I've heard that one before. Why do you want to move this time?” Taylor asks.

Statements like that were often made by him when he got manic. He thinks they should move, he's going to quit his job and write a novel, the list of grand ideas that seemed like the rational thing to do goes on and on. But sometimes he thinks that if he really did want to do some of those things when he was his normal self, that Taylor would always take it with a grain of salt. It sort of makes him irritated because he couldn't voice an idea or opinion without Taylor rolling his eyes and laughing it off.

Adam really hates living in an apartment. It’s a nice apartment and all but now that they’re married, he wants to be in an actual house.

When he thinks of that, he suddenly wants to cry. The sting of tears is apparent but he fights it off and decides to humor him. “My husband doesn't believe anything I say.” He sighs, “He doesn't listen to me at all.”

With raised eyebrows, Taylor shakes his head. “That's not true. I’m listening and I really want to know why you think we should get a house.” Taylor gestures his hands in a sweeping motion. “Go on.”

For some reason, that just makes the urge to cry stronger and Adam almost feels like Taylor is mocking him. “Well, what if we have kids? I don't want to raise kids in an apartment...I want them to have a backyard.” Adam says, feeling stupid.

Taylor’s eyes soften and he uncrosses his arms. “Kids aren't going to be for a while though. We have time. Plus, we haven't even had a pet together yet. We need to do that first.”

They haven't talked about kids much. They've only been married for six months for crying out loud but Adam feels like he suddenly needs to know- “Do you think I would make a good dad?”

“Of course.” Taylor immediately answers. He takes Adam’s hand in his, and runs his thumb over the veins sticking out on the back of his hand. He smiles and it sends butterflies pulsing around inside Adam’s stomach. “I can't imagine you being anything other than an absolutely amazing dad.”

Adam believes him when he says that. He's just not sure he believes it himself. “Even with my disorder?”

“It won't be easy, we know that.” Taylor shrugs. Adam turns his hand over so he can tangle their fingers together. “But we can't let that stop us from living our lives, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Adam says. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

Taylor smiles again. Adam can't help but grin back just as wide and he leans over to kiss him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was quiet between them for a couple of moments. Adam gets up to open another bottle of wine, and refills their glasses. “What do you think about moving?”

“Our lease isn't even up yet, babe.” Taylor chuckles.

Adam blinks a little owlishly. “Okay.”

Taylor laughs again. It light and it feels carefree. “I’ll tell you what, why don't we take this bottle to bed and we’ll finish this conversation up tomorrow.”

He supposes that sounds good. This conversation can wait, there's no rush. They have the rest of their entire lives to figure it all out.

\---  
When he’s normal- he’s good and takes his meds. When he’s not normal- he’s defiant and doesn't take his meds.

Being a manic depressive, Adam thinks, is confusing. Logically, you know better but emotionally you don't care. That’s confusing. Most of the time he's not sure how he feels about a lot of things.

Most of the time, he just is. The manic and depressive episodes just come and then they go. Sometimes it feels like he's in an episode for weeks, other times it feels like it went by in a heartbeat. Adam has his moments where he is okay with what he is. He has his moments where he hates what he is and it never ends.

But that's what being a manic depressive is. The never ending cycle of up and downs, highs and lows, love and hate. It’s a mess inside your mind and you’re always struggling to pick up after it.

Adam thinks that he’s lucky it's not worse. His manic and depressive episodes only come four times a year and each episode only lasts for a week at most. Medication does help, when he's on it consistently. He's learned to somewhat contain mood swings so his disorder doesn't always have to affect his everyday. He had a steady job that pays the bills, a roof over his head and a supportive, loving husband who gets it.

He thinks that’s pretty lucky.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
